


Malus

by MasqueradeCryaz



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddles!, Emotional Intimacy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this for me but I suppose you guys can read it too, Lucemon says you’re valid: the fic, Panic Attacks, Takes place in seperate universe from canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasqueradeCryaz/pseuds/MasqueradeCryaz
Summary: You wander someplace you shouldn't, and, not knowing better, extend empathy and kindness to someone who never thought he’d get it. The two of you are slowly drawn into each other's pace, and the world is forever changed.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	1. Strange Places, Stranger Friends

The digital world is, frankly, an incredibly beautiful place. It’s also incredibly dangerous. You know this very well, as your occupation demands it. 

You’re a tamer working for one of the many tamer groups. Well, a “tamer”. You don’t have a partner. Yet. You’re certain that somewhere, out in the vast digital world, there is a perfect friend just for you who you can go on adventures with and feed delicious human world things and and lie under the stars together and watch all your favorite movies together and they’ll give you hugs and and affection and they’ll listen to you when you talk and you’ll love each other always and be best friends FOREVER- and this was usually where your coworkers cut your rant off. 

So, anyways, you’re on a mission. You don’t usually get assigned important things because of your  _ unique _ approach and your lack of a partner. As for your approach to keeping the peace in the digital world, it’s very different from everyone else’s.

You hate violence. The idea of hurting another person, purposefully, if there are other options made you feel sick. The others seem to delight in battle, but for you, all you can see was the expression of pain on the enemy’s face. You  _ hated _ it. 

Isn’t your entire job supposed to be keeping the peace and stopping conflicts? How could you do that if you fight at every opportunity? If you have to draw a weapon and attack, didn’t that mean you’d failed in your duty? The others don’t understand your views, you know that. 

For them, a large part of the appeal of this job is how “cool” it was. Monster battles with magic? You had to admit, it is kind of  _ cool _ . But, the idea of someone being hurt for a moment of fun stops you in your tracks. This was part of the reason why you don’t have a partner yet. All the digimon you’ve met were excited at the prospect of battle, and seemed to quickly lose interest in you when they found you didn’t share the same feelings. It hurt, but you wouldn’t show it. Statistically, there  _ had _ to be a digimon who preferred to talk things out instead of fight. Just like you. 

You are currently very, very lost. Your plan to have the two warring factions of digimon you’d been sent to deal with resolve their differences peacefully had completely fallen through when the tamer you’d been working with had taken a side and her partner had started blasting things. It had been going so well, too. 

It had been  _ important _ that it go well. Tamers were rarely sent to the dark area, even to just the surface level. However, this small conflict had been making waves, and had had the potential to get much bigger. It was likely going to, now. 

All tamers are equipped with a digivice that, among other functions, would let them return to base at any moment. Yours had been busted in the crossfire. You shook it, in a futile attempt to get it running again, and watched it spark weakly. Although you were worried about being burned by the stray sparks, the idea of walking several thousand miles back to base was a far worse concept. Not to mention being trapped in the  _ dark area _ . Death will be the best fate you can hope for if that happens. 

You hadn’t paid attention to where you were running, too focused on self preservation. You know you’re somewhere in the catacombs beneath the castle of the faction you were negotiating with, because of course they have a castle. 

You’ve been walking for what feels like hours, and the artificial walls of the castle’s sub levels had fallen away to a more natural shape long ago. You suspect that a wall had caved in during the fighting, and connected them to a natural cave system of some sort. Hopefully there’s a way out, or else you’ll be here a very, very long time. You shiver at the thought. 

You continue to go forward. You doubt this is the way out, considering you’ve been going in no direction but down for some time now. Regardless, there’s no other way you can go. So you press on. Down, down, into the depths. 

The only thing lighting your way is your broken digivice. The screen is lit up, but it is glitching out in a way that suggests it’s having the computer equivalent of a complete mental breakdown. You hold it directly in front of you, so as not to get hit by the occasional spark it will spit. You can’t help but compare it to a rabid animal, foaming at the mouth. 

Is it your imagination, or is it getting lighter? It takes you a second to confirm that yes, it’s getting lighter. You break into a run, excited to see sweet, sweet daylight once again. You come to an abrupt halt as you finally reach the source of light. 

You’ve broken through from the small tunnels into an enormous cavern. The walls are covered in murals of some kind, but they’re far too faded to make out much of the detail. That isn’t, however, what’s caught your attention. 

Your eyes are fixed on the enormous orb of what appears to be  _ solid darkness _ floating in mid air. It’s taking up a large portion of the cavern. Surrounding it on the floor is the source of light. 

It appears to be some form of...seal? You slowly approach it. As you do so, you begin to feel a sense of pressure. Of  _ power _ . The closer you get, the stronger it feels, until it feels like you’re trying to walk through molasses. As if your body can’t handle whatever this is. 

The sense of power isn’t exactly physical. The closer you get to it, the more you feel like you’re in the presence of a mountain. Unimpressive from a distance, but then you get close and you look up and up and  _ up -  _ and you realize how very, very  _ small _ you are. You’re forced to stop quite a ways from it.

The seal is clearly written in some form of digicode, but you can’t read it. It looks  _ ancient _ . It’s emitting a large amount of light, the edges less so, and they look somewhat faded. You can’t help but feel you’ve found something you perhaps shouldn’t have. Somehow, that only makes it more alluring. 

This was a seal, right? And this sense of power...there must be a digimon in it. An incredibly strong one, if you could feel their power this strongly even when it was suppressed. 

“Hello?” You call out quietly. There’s no response. You try again, a bit louder. “Can you hear me? Is someone there?” Still, no response. You don’t know what you were expecting. Of course they won’t be able to answer you. 

Still, you kept talking. Once you’ve started, you can’t stop. You’re honestly terrified. You don’t know if you’ll ever get out of these caves, and you have  _ failed _ and people are fighting again and hurting each other and- 

So you keep speaking, if only to try and not have a complete breakdown. “What’s your name?” You ask. “How long have you been here? Do you know the way out?” There  _ must _ be a way out. You can’t let yourself think otherwise. None of these questions garner any sort of response, but the act of speaking to someone else, even if they almost certainly can’t hear you, calms you. You’re not alone down here. 

You open your mouth to ask another question, and are cut off by what you can only describe as _hellish_ _shrieking_. You join in the screaming too, only to realize belatedly that it’s your digivice. The sound is almost like the noise you’ve heard the digivices make when triggering a digivolution, except distorted. 

You turn it around to see what, exactly, has gone wrong with it this time, and the noise abruptly cuts off. The screen goes completely black. You stare, in a kind of resigned depression. The screen promptly turns back on, greeting you with the startup screen. You gaze on in disbelief as you open the menu to trigger the teleportation. 

You pause, just as you’re about to hit the button, and look back at the seal. The amazing, wondrous seal. You look back at the digivice. You look at the seal. You slowly open the options menu, and add your location to your teleportation destinations. Then, fearing it will shut off again if you leave it too long, you press the button that will send you home. 

In the chaos that ensues afterwards, the seal is put out of your mind for the next few weeks. For starters, the lead tamer chooses  _ you _ to chew out for this entire disaster of a mission. You have no idea why you were targeted and not the tamer you were working with, considering how, despite how your plan went wrong, you weren’t the one blasting holes in everything in sight. This is honestly just par for the course with your career so far, so you grin and bear it. 

You internally decide that you’re going to work solo as often as you can from now on. It’s dangerous, yes, especially considering you don’t have a partner, but at the very least you won’t be restarting turf wars like a certain  _ someone _ .

The days pass as you travel around looking for people to help. Sometimes, you succeed. Sometimes, you don’t. Even when a conflict can’t be resolved peacefully, you remember the looks on the faces of all the digimon you’ve helped. The ones who thought you would never want to hear their side of the story. 

Despite all your work, you are alone. You still haven’t found a partner, and refusing human help except on official missions has left you lonely. You talk to many digimon, but only in the way a drifter does. You help them, and then move on. 

This loneliness brings to mind the seal. You think about it occasionally, day after day, until you decide to go back. It’s a peaceful place, ironically, and it will at the very least help you gather your thoughts. 

Stuck in your thoughts, you barely realize you’ve pulled out your digivice and opened the destination menu. Before you realize it, you’ve pushed the button that will send you there. 

You materialize in a flash of light. Everything is exactly how it was when you left. Massive dark orb, check. Weird glowing ruins, check. Strange murals, check. Incredible aura of power trying to crush your soul, check. 

You stand silently for a while, trying to figure out what, exactly, you thought you could accomplish by coming here again. You remember how you spoke last time, and it calmed you. You may as well try that again. After all, you have a captive audience. And they can’t hear you, so they can’t judge you, you think to yourself. 

But first...slowly, you bend down and pick up a rock. You toss it in the general direction of the seal. It falls woefully short. You try again, and your second toss actually makes it into the circle. Your third disappears into the orb of darkness in a way that’s incredibly unnerving. You eye it. Good to know that if, for some insane reason, you wanted to get that close to whoever this is you can join them in the seal  _ for all eternity _ . 

The dam breaks, and you finally start talking. “Hi! I’m back! You’re still here! I mean, um, of course you are, but what I’m trying to say is, I mean..” you pause, and take a second to get a hold of yourself so you can stop putting your foot in your mouth. 

You inhale. You exhale. Nobody is going to judge you here. You’re okay. You’re  _ safe _ . “So,” you begin. “I didn’t hit you with the rock, did I? I didn’t think it would actually go in. Please tell me it didn’t hurt you.” There’s no response. “I’m sorry if it did. I didn’t mean it.” You press on anyway. 

“I don’t mean a lot of things that happen, I think. I’m a tamer working for an organization, but I’m more of a solo act now. Everyone else keeps blowing things up. I’m opposed to blowing things up on principal, so I work alone a lot. For some reason disliking explosions and violence makes me unique. I think that’s a bit worrying. Don’t you?” There’s still no response from the orb, but you feel a bit better, so you keep going. 

“Today, I helped a bunch of baby digimon find their lost ball. It took all day, and it wasn’t exactly an “official” mission, but I liked helping them. I think I like this sort of work more than all the combat missions everyone else likes. I don’t like fighting.” Nothing in the room changes, but you continue to feel better. 

“That’s actually how I got here the first time, you know? I was with another tamer and had managed to get peace talks between two digimon factions going, but she and her partner were all like “It’S NoT FaSt EnOuGh” and started throwing fireballs. And I got lost in the absolute train wreck that came after and ended up down here. By the way, the two groups are still fighting. Big surprise.”

You ramble on aimlessly about the kind of work you’ve been doing since you split off from the main organization for a while. You’re basically talking to yourself alone in a dark cave at this point, but even the idea that someone is listening to you helps. You end up spending a decent stretch of time there, and by the time you leave you feel as if the storm inside you has calmed somewhat. 

Over the next few days, you find your mind wandering to the seal more and more often. Eventually, you find yourself back in front of it again. This time, at least, you don’t trip over your own tongue when you start speaking. 

“Hey, I’m back again. So I’ve been doing a lot of those small-time jobs that don’t need me to be anywhere near fighting. I found a rookie digimon lost in the woods and helped them get home just yesterday. But today, I had to get involved in a fight. There was a digimon rampaging around town, and everyone was gearing up to battle. But it turns out they were so mad because they had a giant thorn stuck in their paw. I thought that kind of thing only happened in children’s stories! I’m glad I was able to talk to them and pull out the thorn before anybody had to fight. Seriously, this isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me since I came here. You wouldn’t believe the time I was on this mission and…”

You continue to speak, complaining about some of the truly wild missions you’ve been on. “But what I’ve noticed is that so many people just want to resort to fighting because they think it’s easier. Is fighting really the answer to all our problems? I don’t think it is...it feels like the right choice is never the easy one, you know? I feel like it’s harder to try and understand other people than to just hit them until they stop, and maybe that’s why so many of the other tamers and their partners are like that.” 

The cave remains silent after you finish speaking, but, somehow, you feel listened to. As if your opinion is valued. You know it’s just in your mind, but this place helps you. 

After you leave, you find yourself contemplating that question long into the night, far past when you should have fallen asleep. Why do people resort to violence? Isn’t the reason language was invented so people could talk to each other? You find yourself coming to no conclusions, and eventually fall into a dreamless sleep. 

You come back to the seal, time after time. You’re there almost everyday now. It’s become a place of peace for you. You find yourself getting accustomed to the sense of crushing power, and day by day, bit by bit, you find yourself inching closer to the seal. 

Another curious thing that seems to have happened is that the light of the seal has dimmed somewhat. Although at first it was bright enough to light up the entire cavern, and only the edges were dim, it seems to have spread so that a good portion of the digicode runes are dim now. You don’t want to say that it’s losing power, exactly. For all you know, it’s set on some kind of energy cycle and you’ll come back tomorrow and it’ll be bright again. 

However, you’ve decided to take this as the opportunity it is. You’ve been researching digicode, and you’ve brought several books with you. Since the glow is so dim now, you can actually look at the runes without searing your eyes out. You’re curious. What, exactly, do they say? Is it the ancient equivalent of “DO NOT OPEN EVER UNLESS YOU WISH TO DIE”, or is it a poem, a story of some kind, like there are in ancient tombs in the human world? Perhaps you’ll finally get the story of what’s going on here.

It takes hours. Ages of cross-referencing books, looking up characters you don’t recognize, and when all else fails, using google. But you’re finally ready to translate it and read the  _ knowledge of the ancients _ . You’re so ready for this. You inhale, then exhale. Gotta stay calm. You can do this. Just a little bit longer, 

You put down your digivice, and close the last book. You put your translation down too, and stare upwards at the ceiling of the cave. Up at the heavens. Somehow, you don’t think this is right. 

You open your mouth and ask regardless. “Hey. Does the outside of the seal say “GAUNQHVVQGAUNQHVVHGAUNQHVVVGAUNQHVVZ”? There’s no response, but you get the distinct impression someone is laughing at you. It’s probably your imagination. Or digital God. 

“Yeah, you know what? That’s it. I’m out. Stick a fork in me, because I am DONE.” You flop down on the floor of the cavern, and stare at the runes. The stupid, stupid runes. You gaze so long your vision starts to blur. You roll over rebelliously, so you don’t have to look at them anymore. 

The rock floor isn’t particularly comfortable, but you refuse to get up, out of spite if nothing else. You don’t know what you’re angry at. The universe, maybe? The aforementioned hypothetical digital God? Yourself? It’s probably all of the above, if you’re being honest with yourself. So you lie there. 

...You’re tired. How late is it, you wonder? How long have you been working on this? You don’t know. You know it’s been a long time. Eventually, your eyes slide shut, and everything fades away, including your vague, untargeted wrath. 

You wake up abruptly and uncomfortably. That probably has something to do with the rocks stuck to you and the incredible amount of pain you’re in. It’s what you get for sleeping in a cave, you suppose. You spend a good amount of time brushing small pebbles off of yourself and trying to stretch out so that every muscle in your body will stop rebelling. 

“Good morning, menacing orb of darkness!” You say, with forced cheer. You  _ ache _ . It’s not a good morning, but you figure you should be polite anyway. The seal does not greet you back. How rude. “I’ve just realized that I don’t know your name. You know mine, but I don’t know yours, and I don’t think that’s fair.” The orb still does not respond. “Give me your name or I’ll give you one. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” The seal remains silent. 

You take a deep breath, and begin to think. What’s a good name for your friend? It has to be something meaningful. But maybe also something cheerful? They’re currently your best friend, even if your relationship is rather one sided. 

You stay silent for a few minutes, just thinking. This is  _ important _ . This is a vital part of both you  _ and _ your friends’ lives you’re deciding on. Finally, you reach a decision, as the mental puzzle pieces click together. “I’ve decided! Your name will be Selkie! Because you’re in a seal!” You announce proudly. 

The orb remains silent, but you get the vague sense of a cosmic level of disapproval. It’s probably just your imagination. You shrug off the feeling. “Anyways, I’ll see you later Selkie! I’m gonna head out now.”

You select a destination randomly and boot up your teleportation program. You don’t really need to be anywhere specific these days. You just wander around and help people who need it. You vanish from the cavern in a flash of light, and everything is quiet once more. 

You end up in the woods near a town. It’s not morning, and is, in fact, dark out. You really must have lost track of time down there. You make your way slowly through the trees, using your digivice to light your way. 

As you get closer to the town, you start to hear yelling. Or, well, one person yelling and a lot of people screaming. You break into a run, and finally reach the entrance of the town.

As you enter, many small digimon run by you in terror, fleeing into the forest you just came from. The screaming continues, and you run to follow it to its source. As you approach, you hear a loud boom and a house  _ explodes _ . 

You duck and come to halt, shielding yourself from the stray bits of wood and other shrapnel. And then what you can only describe as a  _ huge _ digimon comes into your view. 

They’ve got spikes, horns, fangs, huge claws, the works. They’re at  _ least _ an ultimate level. This is far beyond your ability to handle, especially without a partner, but you have to try. You gather up your courage, and shout out to them. 

“HEY! HEY YOU! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” They laugh, swing their arm again, and fire a blast of power that destroys yet  _ another  _ house effortlessly. And then they turn their attention solely to you. 

“Ha! What’s a human doing here? Where’s your partner, little thing?” You can’t let them know you don’t have one. That’s the one thing that will  _ guarantee _ they don’t listen to you. “Why are you destroying the town?! You’re scaring everybody! People LIVE here!” You yell back, dodging the question entirely. 

“Why? Because it’s fun! This town is an eyesore! And so are you, tiny thing! Get lost!” They swing their hand towards you, and begin charging an attack. As the light grows in front of you until it’s all you can see, several things happen in quick succession. 

Firstly, you realize you are about to die. You can’t possibly move fast enough to dodge, and a human surviving a hit from an ultimate is a laughable concept. Secondly, you realize that in what are probably your last moments, you’re thinking of the seal. A place where you feel safe. And finally, your mouth moves without you realizing and you say the name you gave your best friend not minutes ago. “...Selkie…”

Seconds pass, and you realize you’re still alive. Why are you still alive? You look past the light of the attack to the digimon. The digimon who now has a hand on their chest, right over their heart. The digimon who is wearing an expression of pure  _ agony _ . 

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! I DON’T WANT TO FEEL LIKE THIS!” They’re yelling at you, but their words rapidly devolve into nothing but wordless screams. The attack has long dissipated, and they’re on their knees in front of you. You watch in shock, unable to move, as they fall to the ground and start  _ writhing.  _ They’ve completely given up on attacking the town, and are completely devoting their energy to attempting to make the pain stop. To get away from you. 

Frozen, you can only watch as they slowly drag themselves away from you and the town. You’re still standing there later, alone, when the digimon of the town come to find you. 

They congratulate you and thank you again and again. They press food into your arms, gifts, books. They cheer you on as you leave, and sing you praises. You accept it all with a forced smile. All you can see is the light from the attack that almost killed you. That  _ should _ have killed you. 

As soon as you get the chance, you pull yourself away from the people of the town and go back to the seal. It’s only then that you allow yourself to break. You drop the gifts to the ground, books, food, all. They hit with a thump and a clatter, scattering everywhere. You can’t bring yourself to care.  _ You almost died _ . 

You curl up as close to the seal as you’re able. Over the course of the time you’ve been visiting, you’ve grown somewhat used to the power that comes off its occupant in waves. You’re but a scant few feet from the edge, which is far, far closer than you’d normally be comfortable with, but the suffocating presence you normally wouldn’t be able to tolerate helps you drown out your thoughts. You almost died.  _ You almost died _ . The thought repeats over and over in your head, as do the moments leading up to it. 

The aura of power is smothering you, drowning out every memory of what just happened to you. You can barely feel, let alone _ think _ . This sensation should be terribly unpleasant, but instead you try to force your body closer still to the seal. You fail to move even an inch. It seems you’ve hit your limit. You lie there, trembling, for what seems like hours.

Eventually, your breathing calms and your heart slows. You finally feel like you have a hold of yourself, and slowly sit up. You get to your feet, and make your way to the items you dropped. 

You didn’t get the chance to really look them over when you were in the town, not that you could have with your mind in the state it was. You inspect them carefully. Anything to distract yourself and prevent you from thinking. 

You bend down, and pick up a book. It looks brand new, and of a decent size. You open the cover, and discover it’s some kind of fantasy novel. You look at the book, and then back at the seal. 

You make your way back over to the seal, close enough so that the crushing power starts suppressing your mind again, but not as close as you were before, and take a seat. Stories are an escape from reality, which is something you sorely need right now. “So..” You start. Your voice stutters, as you hold back tears. “I-I got this book. I don’t know wh-what it’s about, but maybe we can r-read it together?” 

Your voice is weak as you open it and begin reading, but it gains strength as you make your way through it. You find yourself slowly drawn into the pace of the main character, and the plight of the kingdom she and her friends are trying to save. You read until your voice is sore, and then keep going. You don’t stop until you turn the last page, and close the book. 

You don’t want to leave this place just yet. Nothing has ever hurt you here. You feel safe here. You pull out the blankets you sleep on when you’re traveling, and lie them on the floor of the cavern, as close to the seal as you can handle. You fall asleep with the aura of power hanging over you. Your rest is dreamless and dark, but you have the vague sense of being held in a gentle embrace by a presence so powerful you can barely comprehend it. 

You awaken slowly, and unlike the last time you fell asleep here, not in pain. The power in the cave is smothering, but not so much as to be uncomfortable at this distance. You stretch out your limbs, releasing the tension in them. 

You don’t want to leave this place just yet. You want to stay here, away from anything that could ever hurt you. But you know you can’t. You have a duty to help this world and its people, and it’s one you want to fulfill with all your heart, not out of obligation. Still, you can linger here a while. A few days wouldn’t hurt. 

You spend that time reading the rest of the books you’ve received to an unresponsive audience. Still, it makes you feel less alone. The adventures the protagonists go on, the fairy tales where everyone gets a happy ending, the stories where nothing is truly at risk, they all calm you. It’s so unlike your daily life. 

Still, you can’t help but feel lonely, even now. You close the book you were reading, and turn your attention to the seal. “Hey. Do you think I’ll ever get a partner?” As usual, there’s no response, but you press on regardless. “Nobody wants to partner with me. I’ve asked, but everyone turns me down. And even when somebody says they want to, they change their minds when they see I don’t get into a lot of fights.” Talking about this makes the lonely feeling inside your chest  _ ache _ , but you continue anyway. “Am I just not cut out for this? Am I that unlikable? Why doesn’t anyone want to be my friend?” You realize you’re clutching the book in a death grip, and your gaze has dropped from the orb to the ground in front of you. “Is it wrong to want peace? To hate fighting?” Your hands are shaking. “I’m lonely. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” You turn your gaze back to the seal. “...are you lonely too?” There’s no response. You didn’t expect one. 

You trail off. This isn’t going anywhere, and you won’t get any of the answers you’re looking for here. Talking about this is upsetting you. You repress the thoughts, as usual, and force a grin onto your face. “Well, I’m off! See you soon, Selkie!”

Departing from the cave, and the presence there, leaves you feeling cold. You shiver, and decide to go to the nearest town. Hopefully this one won’t have any murderous digimon. You don’t know if you can take a repeat of that. 

Thankfully, as you walk down the main street, you are  _ not _ greeted by screams and mass destruction and explosions and- you inhale, and try to calm yourself. You wander aimlessly, and find yourself in front of a library. You stop, stare, and remember. You find yourself pushing open the door, and leaving with as many books as you can carry. 

You return to the seal shortly afterwards, feeling more and more unsafe the longer you linger outside of it. The familiar press of power is a sensation that immediately relaxes you. “Hey! I’m back!” You greet the orb cheerfully, and to your surprise, you find that your joy is genuine. “I got more books for us!” You announce proudly, holding them up in the general direction of the seal. You know whoever’s in it can’t see them, but it’s the thought that counts. 

And so the months pass like that. You’re in the cavern everyday now, and oftentimes every night too. It’s safer than sleeping on the road when you’re traveling, and you prefer it to your apartment, which you’re rarely in anyway, so you curl up as close to it as you can every night. Every day, you manage to get a little closer to it, becoming a little more accustomed to the power, until you’re able to sit right by the edge of it. It’s not that the sense of power is any less extreme or crushing. It’s that you’ve become able to bear the weight. It’s not unpleasant anymore. It feels like an embrace, like a blanket. 

As you’ve become accustomed to the power, the light of the seal has continued to fade. Whereas before the runes would light up the entire cavern, now they only emit a dim glow. Oftentimes, you have to use your digivice to provide enough light to move around the cavern without tripping. 

You also use it to read. You’ve gone through so many books and libraries in your time here. You read novel after novel to the seal, and to yourself. You’ve expanded beyond fantasy genres, and now you read sci-fi and mystery novels. Your favorite things to read, however, are incredibly trashy dollar store romance novels. It seems those exist in both worlds, unfortunately. You’ve made a game out of it, where you try to find the  _ worst _ ones and bring them back to read and make fun of. They have, on occasion, reduced you to tears of laughter. The particular culprit for that one was called “ _ Demonic Delights: Burning Wings of Desire _ ”. As somebody who has actually  _ been _ to the dark area, and regularly visits, it almost did what that huge digimon hadn’t and killed you. You still haven’t found a book that can rival it, though not for lack of trying. 

Today, you’re interrupted halfway through your mystery novel reading session. You’ve been speaking your thoughts so far, trying to guess the culprit, the book at your side, when your digivice beeps. Unlike your phone, you only get alerts and texts on your digivice regarding missions. Sometimes you wonder why they didn’t just make a taming app instead of giving you an entirely new device. 

You  _ rarely  _ get alerts these days, especially since they know you don’t have a partner and thus won’t be much help on important missions. Even if said important missions could often be resolved peacefully, instead of through _ violence _ \- you realize your nails are digging into your palms, and you force yourself to calm down. You sigh, and force yourself to put down your book and look at your digivice. This is the first alert you’ve had in months, so it must be important if they’re contacting  _ you. _

You take one look at the message, and almost ascend to another plane of existence out of  _ sheer spite _ . You’d called it back when you first found this place. The conflict between the two factions in the dark area has escalated into a full scale war, and they’re calling you in because you were the last person to talk to them. Unbelievable. They didn’t want you there the first time, and  _ now  _ they want you? Ugh. This probably means they’ve contacted that trigger happy she-demon too. You could happily go your entire life without seeing her again. 

“Hey Selkie. I’ve got to go soon, sorry, because you won’t  _ believe _ the message I just got…”

You complain to Selkie for a while after that, but eventually you muster up the willpower to force yourself to your feet and open up the teleporter menu on your digivice. You hesitate before hitting the button. This isn’t a problem you created, and, in fact, this is something that could have been  _ solved _ if they’d just let you work. Nevertheless, you  _ want  _ to help others. You’re not doing this for your tamer group. You’re doing this for the digimon, you decide. You finally depart. 

You appear at the base, and make your way to the meeting room. As you walk, you notice people staring at you. Many others do double-takes. It makes sense, you think. You haven’t been back here in literal months. You’re basically a cryptid at this point. “ _ Haha, If you want to see me you have to perform a ritual under the light of the moon on an eclipse!” _ You think to yourself. 

As you approach the door to the meeting room, you hear arguing.  _ Loud  _ arguing. And all four of the voices, unfortunately, you recognize. The first two are the female tamer and her partner. The others are your leader and his partner. Usually, nobody does that. The lead tamer is the lead tamer for a  _ reason. _ They’re the best at organizing, at leading, and, often, at fighting. You’re in shock that she would even try. 

You sigh, and decide to face the music. You open the door slowly, hoping to avoid getting drawn into whatever drama this is. It’s no use. Everyone in the room instantly turns their attention to you. The lead tamer and his partner, thankfully, seem to calm at the sight of you. “Ah, you’re finally here. Good. We’re in a serious situation here, and we weren’t sure we would be able to reach you.” You take a seat. “We know you’ve been working. We’ve received various reports from digimon around the countryside praising you and your dedication. How  _ did _ you manage to take down that ultimate? ...Well, we can save that discussion for a later date. Right now, we have a bigger issue. If you’ll recall, the two factions you were sent to to help settle their dispute have escalated things. We’ve got an estimate of about a month before things get  _ bad. _ So my partner and I have called you here to share any information you might know.”

The other two open their mouths to start yelling again, but are cut off by you leaning forward and beginning to speak on what you learned while you were there. On what started the fighting, on what the leaders of both factions wanted, and on how you had managed to arrange a meeting the first time around. The other tamer and her partner try to interrupt several more times, but are cut off and silenced by the lead tamer each one. 

Finally, she snaps. “Why in the  _ world _ did you bring them here? They’re  _ useless _ ! They don’t have a partner, and they never will! Nobody likes them, nobody wants them, and you can  _ tell _ because they haven’t spoken to a single person in  _ months _ !” She turns to you. “Get lost! I’ve been telling him this entire time that this is all your fault! You’re just going to make it worse!” 

You stand there, frozen. They were arguing about  _ you _ ? That’s what this was about? Whether or not you should even be allowed here? Whether or not you had worth without a partner? Whether or not you had value as a person? You’re frozen. People are speaking, but you can’t hear them. You don’t want to be here. You want to get away from here. You can’t move. 

“Hey! Hey!” They’re trying to get your attention, and you can hear them now. You wrench your digivice out of your pocket, and as they desperately try to stop you, slam the button that will take you to the seal harder than you ever have before. 

You materialize, and almost immediately break down. “Hey Selkie? Do I deserve a partner? Am I really useless? I...I..” you’re babbling at this point, and your hand holding the digivice is shaking so hard you lose your grip on it and it drops to the ground. Your whole body is shaking, you realize. 

Almost on its own, your body starts moving towards the seal. Closer and closer. Even the crushing aura of power that usually helps you drown out your thoughts doesn’t seem to be enough, and you’re right up on the edge of the seal. You can’t take it. You don’t want to feel this way. You don’t want to be  _ alone _ anymore. 

You step into the circle of runes, and the sense of power immediately escalates to an almost unbearable level. It’s not enough. You still feel. You still think _. _ You still  _ suffer _ . 

You reach out and touch the sphere of darkness, and your hand sinks into it easily. The rest of you soon follows. You find yourself floating in a void as you fall deeper in. There is no light. There is no sound. There is no sense of anything but floating in an abyss. 

Abruptly, all of your emotions fade away. You can barely feel. You can barely _think _. You find yourself feeling exhausted, tired, _slothful _. You cannot muster up the energy to move. Not even to twitch your fingers.  
____

And then, something grabs you. You’re yanked into someone’s grasp, and you realize that they’re holding you against them. This must be the digimon that lives in the seal. Just from being this close to them, you can tell that they’re much, much bigger than you. They curl around you, and you feel something soft press you in closer to them. Their arms are already around you. Do they have wings? You don’t know. It’s so dark. 

In the darkness, you finally bring yourself to look up in what you assume is the direction of their face. You’re met with glowing blue. Their eyes are the only source of light here, and they’re entirely focused on you. They look exhausted, and are only half open. As you watch, they close again, and the grip on you tightens. They press your head into their chest, and you can no longer look at them. 

A voice speaks to you, and it takes you a moment to realize you’re not physically hearing it. They’re talking directly into your mind. “ _ Rest. I will take care of you.” _ The tone is incredibly sleepy, but also commanding. It sounds like a reassurance and an order at the same time. For some reason, though, you find yourself comforted. Your eyes slide shut, and although it doesn’t get any darker, you find yourself slipping away. It’s so warm here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that in Digimon Savers Another Mission, Lucemon reveals he can manipulate hearts from inside the seal? He's also aware of world events. He's been watching over you this entire time.


	2. Embracing Pride

You’re drifting in a void, a state between sleep and waking. You’re surrounded by warmth and a heavy presence. Sometimes, you feel yourself on the verge of becoming conscious. Each time, that presence gently, soothingly pulls you from the edge and back into darkness. It’s nice here. You don’t want to leave. You’re in an abyss, but you aren’t alone. You feel comforted, protected. Nothing will harm you here. Nothing  _ can _ harm you here. 

Slowly, things change. You drift closer to waking more and more often, and the sense of darkness that surrounds you grows weaker and weaker. There’s a sense of anticipation from the one that’s in here with you. You don’t know what they’re readying themselves for, but you wait with them. It’s easy to wait, even as a long time passes, because you feel so at peace. 

Eventually, it happens. The darkness around you abruptly  _ shatters _ , and you snap into consciousness. It’s pitch black, but not the darkness of the seal. The darkness of the cavern outside of it. The runes are completely out. You realize the seal has broken. You’re free, and so is whoever was in it. And that means...

You try to move, and find you can’t. You’re being held in a grip that’s as strong as iron, if not even more so. You manage to squirm a little, and it tightens around you, as if in protest, and you’re one again surrounded by softness as they fold their wings (you think they’re wings? You still can’t see) around you and curl up, encasing you in themselves once more. They must have spread them out when the seal broke. You expected a lot of things to happen when and if the seal broke. What you  _ didn’t _ expect was for the digimon in it to refuse to wake up. 

You try, futilely, to wiggle out of their grasp. It’s no use, and they only curl around you more. You’ve got to wake them up if you ever want to escape this cuddle monster. Internally, you wonder if this is why they were sealed. Maybe they tried to snuggle one of the royal knights? You’re almost certainly wrong, but it’s entertaining to imagine. 

“Selkie,” you whisper. No response. “Selkiiiiiiiie,” A bit louder. Still nothing. “Selkie, it’s time to wake up!” at normal volume. You finally get a response. “Mrhrmgm” they ‘say’. It’s a completely inarticulate noise that somehow conveys exactly how much they hate that idea. “Wake up, Selkie!” you repeat. They shift slightly to look down at you, and open their eyes. They’re the same glowing blue you remember, and as you watch, the haze of sleep clears and they focus. Entirely on you. 

The digimon uncurls from around you and stretches out. The entire time, they keep their gaze on you. You’re the center of their attention, and it’s unnerving. It’s as if the only thing in the world, in their eyes, is you. Their grip doesn’t loosen in the slightest. “...Selkie?” you question, hesitatingly. Their eyes gain an incredibly exasperated look. And then they speak. 

“My name is  _ not _ Selkie. I am the king of the dark area and the Demon Lord of Pride. I am Lucemon.” You feel as if the world has stopped spinning. What. What. Lucemon?  _ That  _ Lucemon? The one who rose against the heavens in ancient times and was sealed away for his hubris? The one who could wipe out armies by himself? The one who had wanted to destroy the world?  _ That Lucemon? _

And now he’s awake. And you can’t get away from him. And you’ve been calling him  _ Selkie. _ You feel hysterical, suddenly. You try to squirm out of his grip again, this time desperately, and his eyes widen. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He says. “You’ve stayed by my side this entire time. Such loyalty and kindness is...rare. You’re interesting.” He tilts his head, and you suddenly feel like a bug under a microscope. “I want to see more.” He pulls you forward, and then rests his chin on your head. He’s vibrating, you realize, and it’s shaking you. No, not vibrating.  _ Purring _ . 

This entire situation is ridiculous. You feel like you’ve stepped into the twilight zone. You’ve been using Lucemon for therapy. You’ve been reading to Lucemon. You’ve been  _ cuddling  _ Lucemon, and you’re doing it again right now. And he’s purring, and holding you, and acting like he cares about you. You decide to take this one step at a time. 

“Lucemon?” you ask, hesitantly. “Hm?” he responds. “Can you please let go of me?” He presses you further into himself. “No.” Okay then. Step one failed. You resign yourself to your fate, and he starts moving.

He walks forward, step by step. Does he really intend to carry you out of this cave system? Your questions come to a halt when he does, and you realize he’s pressing your digivice into your hands. When did he get it? You know he didn’t pick it up. 

“Aren’t you going to get us out of here? We’ve been here far too long, don’t you think?” It takes you a moment to realize what he means. He’s asking you to engage the teleportation system. If you do that, then Lucemon will be free. But...he’s been kind to you. He’s still holding you, even now. He thinks you’re going to help him. He thinks you’re an ally. He thinks you’re a  _ friend _ . You find yourself opening the menu. You hesitate, and then press the button. He trusts you, and you find yourself wanting to return that feeling. 

The two of you appear in a flash of light. You chose a secluded spot, far away from any towns or people. It won’t save them if Lucemon decides to attack, but that’s not the reason you chose it. You want to be somewhere where the two of you can be alone for a while. You still remember what happened before you entered the seal, and you don’t quite think you’re ready to face other people yet. 

It’s a clearing in the woods that you would often return to. At this time of day, the sun shines through the trees and creates dapples of light on the grass and the rocks. Usually, you’d hear bird song too, but they’re being oddly quiet right now. You suspect that has something to do with Lucemon’s presence. Even now, you can feel his power pressing down on you. 

“Good choice.” He murmurs to you, and then walks forward to set you down on one of the rocks. He steps back, you twist to look at him and-  _ oh. _

This is your first real look at him, now that you’re not in total darkness. He is many wings outstretched, black and white in harmony, outlined in gold. He notices your staring, smirks, and stretches his wings out a little more. It makes you breathless. “...You’re beautiful.” You finally manage to say. And he is, in an inhuman sort of way. His features are all perfect, like a marble statue, from the spread of his wings to the glow of his eyes. 

It feels as though he’s larger than life, and it’s not just his power that makes you feel that way. He’s  _ at least _ twice your height, and each of his wings is bigger than you are. He makes an imposing figure, but you can’t take your gaze off of him. 

His eyes widen, as if he’s taken aback by your boldness, and then he smiles. This draws your attention to the fact his mouth is filled with fangs. Even those are beautiful, somehow, in a dangerous way. He reminds you of lightning. Beautiful from a distance, but something that you should never get  _ too _ close to. It’s too late for you, though. You’re caught in his gravity. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to feel threatened by him. 

“That’s what I like about you. You’re so honest with your feelings. It’s interesting.” He’s right, and you know it. Still, you feel like you should explain. “It’s the truth. You’re beautiful.” You’re repeating yourself, but you really can’t emphasize it enough. 

Something else is bothering you, though. It was afternoon when you came to the seal, but it’s morning now. “How long was I with you in the seal, by the way? It felt like a long time.” He blinks, and then gives you your answer. “Two weeks.” 

What. You’ve been asleep for  _ two weeks _ ? That’s not a nap, that’s a coma! How are you even alive? You know you haven’t eaten anything in that time, and you should’ve dropped dead of thirst at the very least. “You didn’t want to leave, so I kept you safe.” He adds, as if that makes it less shocking. 

You pull out your digivice and look at your messages. You have an obscene amount of unread texts and calls. You take a passing glance at them, and it tells you that the situation got worse  _ fast _ . They’re fighting in this world now, instead of just the dark area. You have no idea how they managed that. It’s probably part of why your leader was so worried when he called you there. Lucemon leans down and looks at you. “Do you really want to go back?” 

…Do you? Do you want to go back to that place, where nobody knows you or speaks to you? Where your value is, apparently, a topic of debate? You rarely work with them anyway these days. You’ve never really considered the concept of cutting ties with them before, but now that you have, it’s somewhat appealing. You wander the world most of the time, so would anything really change? 

“I thought so.” He says. He leans down, and gently pries the digivice from your hands. “But still,” You continue, and he pauses. “I want to see this through. I want to complete my mission. The one they gave me when I first met you, and the one they tried to give me again two weeks ago. I don’t want to leave something like this unfinished.” He looks at you for a moment. “How  _ prideful _ . I approve.” 

Then he picks you up. Again. Looks like your moment of freedom is over. He adjusts you so your face isn’t pressed into the hard metal of the ornament on his chest. This tilts your head down, and you see that he’s clipped your digivice to his belts. This feels like a hilarious reversal of the roles of human and digimon, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh. 

He tenses, and you have a brief second to wonder what he’s doing. Then he snaps his wings open, and you’re airborne. The wind screams past you as he ascends, to the point where when you try to call out to him, the sound is drowned out by it. You cling to him for dear life and close your eyes, pressing yourself as close as you can against him. 

Still, he flies. Higher, higher, higher. Distantly, you wonder where he’s taking you, and why he had to fly so far up to do it. Finally, he slows to a stop and hovers in place. You can hear the beating of his wings, slow and steady. The wind has stopped. 

“You can open your eyes now.” He says. He gently pries your head away from him, but keeps a secure grip on you. You decide to listen, and slowly, hesitantly open your eyes. The first thing you see is him, of course, but then you see it. The two of you are floating in a blue expanse. 

You chance a glance down, and realize exactly how high up you are. The world is spread out below you, a mosaic of colorful beauty. The clouds underneath you drift lazily by.  _ You’re above the clouds _ . At this height, you should be covered in ice. You should be having trouble breathing. You should be having a variety of problems. You should be in danger, but you aren’t. 

You stare, stunned, for a few moments. The world is beautiful. You’re broken out of your amazement when Lucemon tilts to the side and begins lazily soaring. He’s not going anywhere near as fast as before, which is something that makes you grateful. This slow movement is  _ nice _ . The wind blowing on you gently, the colors and clouds below you, the warm grip on you. 

“This is amazing.  _ You’re  _ amazing.” You say breathlessly. “There’s that honesty again.” He replies. He sounds smug. You can’t help but feel like you should continue praising him. If he likes it when you’re honest, then… 

“I like it when you sound like that. Pride really suits you.” You’re rewarded with his flight stuttering slightly. You didn’t expect to surprise him. Surely he’s heard this kind of thing before? He’s ridiculously strong and beautiful. You’d have to be absent of all thought to not notice.  _ Somebody _ must have told him these things. Right? Well, you decide. You’ll keep praising him until it doesn’t shock him anymore. Besides, he should have known you’d have a high opinion of him. He should expect praise from you, at least. He’s been so kind to you. 

During this conversation, you’ve moved to a cloudier area. It’s like you’re floating in a sea of cotton. They look so soft. You know that they’re not, but still. You’re tempted.

“Hey Lucemon? Can you bring us closer to the clouds? I want to try touching one.” He turns toward them and moves in slowly, but you hear him reply “They aren’t soft. You’re going to get wet.” You reach out your hand to pass through one anyway. “I know. I just wanted to do it.” True to his words, when you pull your arm back it’s soaking. You tuck it in close to yourself and snuggle in closer to him to get more warmth to make up for your now cold hand. “You see? Not pleasant, is it?” He says, and you wonder if he’s made the mistake of flying directly through one. “It was worth it.” You respond, and he goes quiet. 

The two of you soar for some time afterwards in silence, before you finally ask the question that’s been bothering you for some time. “Where are we going?” Lucemon actually  _ laughs _ in response. “Didn’t you say you wanted to complete your mission?” Wait. He’s taking you to the fight? He’s willing to do that? You didn’t ask him to, but he’s actually taking the time to help you? 

At once, the situation hits you. Two digimon factions are at war with each other right now. Your (former?) tamer organization is likely there too, trying to stop it. And here you are, trying to succeed where they have failed. And you already failed the last time you tried. How can you do this? You can’t do this. You’re going to fail and then everyone will fight again and people will get hurt and you  _ can’t _ -

Lucemon has stopped moving forward and is hovering in place. His grip on you is tight. This makes you realize you’re trembling. He removes one hand from you, and tilts your chin up so you’re eye to eye with him. His eyes are glowing again. “Look at me.”, He says, and you find yourself doing so. “You can do this.” You feel numb. He’s going to help you? He’s already done so much. Still, his words give you a brief burst of confidence, and you find yourself speaking. “They say...they say before the seal, you brought peace to this world. Can you help me?” These words take every ounce of your courage to say, and you hide your face against his chest immediately after you say them. What if he rejects you? What if he doesn’t want to help you anymore? What if he  _ leaves you _ -

He moves his hand to hold your head in place against himself. “It’s been a long, long time since anyone has asked something like this of me.” He sounds wistful. “I’m with you.” He’s accepted. Somehow, miraculously, you have a chance now. But more than that, he wants to help you even though he gains nothing from it. “...Why?” You ask. “I want to see you prove them all wrong.” He thinks you’re right? He thinks that all this fighting isn’t really the answer? This isn’t where you thought you’d find understanding. 

You abruptly realize you’re tearing up. He pulls your head back from his chest, and wipes your tears away. His claws are sharp, but they never apply even the slightest pressure to your skin. “You said that pride suited me, but I believe it would look just as good on you. You’re right, and they are  _ wrong _ . You should keep that in mind.” 

When he looks at you like that, you want to believe. You shakily nod at him. “Thank you. For everything.” He pulls you close, and resumes his flight. “We’re almost there. Are you ready?” You don’t think you ever will be, but you want to try. And Lucemon is with you. Somehow, that fact alone makes you feel better, and not because of his strength. You nod again, and place your hands over his, where he’s holding you. It makes you feel better, somehow.

The two of you fly forward for a few more minutes, and then- “We’re here. Here we go!” And he pulls his wings in and  _ dives _ . He’s going much faster than he did coming up, and your surroundings blur past you. The wind is roaring, but you keep your eyes open and fixed forward. 

You can see the battle ahead of you. It’s mostly a blur at this speed, but you can already tell it’s a  _ mess _ . Both factions fighting, tamers fighting both factions, tamers trying to talk to them, only to be met with a fireball to the face. It’s chaos. You perceive all this in the split second it takes the two of you to get there. 

The entire battlefield comes to a screeching halt when the two of you do. Lucemon snaps open his wings to stop his descent, and everyone freezes under his aura. Slowly, all eyes turn to the two of you. 

And then motion resumes, abruptly. This time, everyone focuses everything they have on the two of you. You cry out in panic, but he holds you close and  _ moves _ . He flicks his wings forward so fast they’re only a flicker in your vision, and the wind produced by them stops every attack in its tracks and blows them away. And then everyone stops moving again, this time in a distinctly unnatural way. Some are even stopped, mid-motion, in the air.

“You are all very rude.” Lucemon says. He’s never spoken like this to you. He sounds like he’s suppressing absolute  _ fury _ . It takes you a second to figure out why, considering that the people here have a snowball’s chance in Hell of hurting him. If those attacks had hit, you would have been severely hurt, at  _ best. _ They saw you there. There’s no way they didn’t, and even the tamers had still attacked. That’s…

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Lucemon continues. “Now, we’re going to speak to you.  _ And you’re going to listen _ .” His voice has dropped several octaves. The sound is absolutely terrifying. Is this why they call him a Demon Lord? 

He sets you down, gently, and pushes you forward in an encouraging gesture. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and begin to talk. You use everything you learned from the peace talks that almost happened. You remind them what they were fighting for in the first place. You remind them how happy they looked when they thought they could resolve their differences without fighting. You remind them how close they got to actually doing that, and that it only didn’t happen because the meeting didn’t. You remind them how upset they were when the meeting turned into a fight. 

And then Lucemon joins in. He speaks with you, not over you, and reinforces everything you say. He brings up several things  _ you  _ didn’t know about the conflict. He tells them how sad it is that they took the easy way out instead of actually working through their problems. How disappointing it is, that the people of this world are still like this after all this time. 

The fear and anger, by this point, have faded from everyone’s eyes and the emotion they seem to be feeling the most right now is  _ shame _ . You have a sense that the two of you have won. Even if the fighting resumes, it will be with hesitancy, and that’s far better than you thought it would be going into this. 

Lucemon seems to sense the same thing, because he releases his hold on everyone. Many of them promptly collapse into undignified heaps. The battlefield is silent. 

And then someone speaks, and it takes you a moment before you realize that you recognize the voice. “What  _ is  _ this?! You don’t have a partner! Who the actual HELL did you get to actually help you?!” It’s the tamer that insulted you and drove you into the seal. Of  _ course _ she’s here. Your confidence abruptly drains, and you take a step back. 

Lucemon extends a dark wing and pulls you into his side with it. It’s more pulling you into his leg, really, considering the size difference. The wing folds around you, shielding a good portion of you from view. You reach out and wrap your hand around the thumb claw. Lucemon doesn’t respond verbally, but the wing’s grip on you tightens. 

“Oh? You don’t recognize me. That’s interesting, because I recognize the two of  _ you _ .” He sounds...cruel. This is more than the anger he directed at the battlefield earlier. This is  _ targeted _ . “I’m Lucemon, and I’ve been watching you. You haven’t impressed me.” You peek over the wing in time to see all color drain from her face. And from a good number of other people. And then he speaks about things you have no idea how he knows. About her and her partner’s dark secrets, about their weaknesses, about the things that keep them up at night. About how  _ afraid _ they are. He’s psychologically tearing them apart, in front of everyone, and you can’t bring yourself to stop him. He only pauses when they’re on the verge of tears, and even then only because the lead tamer interrupts. 

“Why are you here? And you,” He turns his attention to you, and you hide behind the wing again. “What have you  _ done?” _ Lucemon shifts his position and straightens a little. “They’ve done nothing. The seal would have broken on its own. They just happened to be there when it did. As for why I’m here, it’s because they asked.” All eyes slowly turn to you. 

“Is this digimon your partner?” The leader asks you. “He isn’t my partner.  _ Lucemon _ is my friend.” You say, putting emphasis on his name. “...and,” you continue. “I’m resigning from this organization. I don’t think that we’re compatible with each other. I hate fighting, but every time you call me it’s always something related to it. I’m done.” 

Lucemon pulls his wing back from where it was shielding you, and you unclip your digivice from his belt. The two of you look at each other, and then he nods at you. This is the last thing tying you to this organization. You press it into his hand. He pulls you close, and, looking out over the crowd of digimon and humans, proudly announces “This one is  _ mine _ .” And then he crushes it. The pieces spark and fall to the ground as he opens his hand. 

The tamers run towards you in shock, but he picks you up, and then the two of you are flying. You’re moving far, far faster than before, and you hear a booming sound. Lucemon just broke the sound barrier, you think distantly. Faster, faster, faster, until you can’t make out your surroundings and the world is nothing but a blur of color. Leaving the battle, the tamers, and your past far behind. 

He eventually comes to a halt. You don’t recognize the area. Unsurprising, considering the distance the two of you just covered. He descends to the ground slowly, and then places you down. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your face up so you’re looking him in the eyes. “Good job. I haven’t seen something like that in…” He trails off, lost in thought, and then regains himself. “I’m proud of you. You’ve fulfilled all my expectations and more.”

Those words mean so much to you, you can’t verbalize what you’re feeling. You want to stay with him. You want him to keep telling you these things. You want...you want…

“Can you come back to my tamer house with me? I still need to get my things before I leave the organization for good.” You freeze, realizing what you just said. What if he-

And he’s responding. “Of course. I’ll take you there.” And then the two of you are flying again. He’s not taking it slow this time, like he was on the way to the battle. The world blurs around you again, and you’re at your house in only a few minutes, if that. He’s unbelievably fast. You may have gotten rid of your digivice and the teleportation feature that came with it, but having Lucemon is basically the same thing, you think to yourself. You still can’t believe this is happening. You’re leaving. You’re going to be  _ free. _

You go to open the door to your house, but then glance over at the grocery store nearby. “There’s something important I have to do. Can you wait here for a few moments?” Lucemon glances at you curiously and raises an eyebrow, but agrees. You run into the store, and return with a few bags shortly after. “Food? Now?” He asks. “It’s important!” You repeat. “...You remind me of someone.” He says, but doesn't elaborate. Who in the world could you remind him of? You put the thought out of your head as you push open the door to your house. 

You put the groceries away first, and then start gathering your things. You don’t have much due to how often you’re on the road, but you have a few sentimental objects you want with you. And food. You need to bring food and water so you don’t starve to death in a ditch somewhere. That would be a sad end to your career. By the time you finish, it’s dark out. You glance out the window, then at Lucemon. 

“...Do you want to spend the night?” You ask. He looks at you, surprised, then nods. You lead him into your room, and he takes a seat on the bed, looking around. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch-“ and as you turn to start walking away, you’re suddenly arrested in place by an invisible force. You can’t move a muscle. And then, you’re dragged backwards into his grip. 

“I don’t think so,” he says. “You’re staying  _ right here _ .” And then he pulls the covers over the two of you and wraps his wings around you. Your bed is  _ not _ made for someone his size, and that basically forces you to huddle close to him. He’s purring again. As you drift off, a single ridiculous thought comes to your mind. 

_ Is he ever going to let go of you? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although Lucemon is capable of shifting between all of his forms, he’s refusing to do that this chapter because he wants to keep holding you, and his rookie form is too small, while his dragon form is too large. He’s quite touch-starved after being in the seal so long.


	3. Eye of the Storm

You wake slowly. You’re wrapped in warmth and softness, and the outside world seems far away. A heavy presence bears down on you, and there’s a rhythmic sound that soothes you. You drift, not quite aware for some time. Eventually, you manage to wake up somewhat, and remember where you are. Lucemon had insisted you share the bed, so that means…

You shift slightly, and become aware that he hasn’t let go of you the entire night. If anything his grip is tighter. That softness you’re feeling isn’t your bed, it’s his wings. And that sound must be his heartbeat, since you’re pressed up against him. For some reason, the fact that he has one truly drives home that this is a person here. Not just an artifact of the digital world’s ancient past or an unimaginable force, both of which he is, but a person. A person who cherishes you, who wants to be with you, who supports you, who believes in you- you’re tearing up again. 

You quickly try and get a hold of yourself. Maybe if you focus on his feelings rather than yours it will help. You suspect that he’s been helping you all this time. The seal always emitted a calming aura when you were upset. You also suspect it was him that saved you from that ultimate digimon. He’s listened to you all this time. His first act when he became free was to help you. Even now, he’s still by your side. You want to let him know that you’re thankful for everything. You told him this yesterday, but you feel that words aren’t enough. You want to  _ show _ him how you feel. You want him to know that you return these emotions, that you feel the same way. 

What can you do? You can’t defeat his enemies, or take him places faster than sound, like he has for you. You’re still sleepy, and hungry, and- wait. You have an idea, but first you need to escape his grasp without waking him. This won’t be easy. 

You begin by slowly unwrapping his arms from you. Ordinarily you wouldn’t be able to budge his grip in the slightest, but he’s asleep right now so his arms are relaxed and he’s not using any of his strength. You check to see if he’s awake, but there’s no change. You should have figured he’d be a heavy sleeper, especially considering how he refused to wake up yesterday. You suspect he only responded to you trying to wake him because it was  _ you _ , now that you think of it. 

You shift the covers back, and remove yourself from his wings too, then pause. He looks so peaceful like this. If it weren’t for his aura of power, you’d never guess he was a Demon Lord. You gently pull the blankets back over him, and he shifts, curling into himself. He somewhat loses the peaceful look, and tightens his arms and wings, as if trying to hold something that isn’t there against him. You watch, bemused. Who would have thought that the avatar of Pride would be so clingy? 

You quietly exit the room and make your way to the kitchen. You should still have some food leftover from yesterday, although you used a good bit of it to make rations. You were going to come up with something to do with the leftovers, like giving them away or throwing them out, but now you have a better idea. 

You pull out your ingredients, and fire up the stove. You may not be able to fight like other tamers, but you do have other things you’re good at. Being on the road for some long has made you very, very good at cooking. Even if it’s usually over a campfire, you’ve learned how to improvise and make usually bland and repetitive rations taste appealing. You’re confident in your skills. You’re going to make Lucemon the best breakfast he’s ever had, you think to yourself. Besides, he deserves it after breaking free. A celebratory meal is traditional for things like this. 

A standard set up with a bit of flair will do. Eggs, meats, toast. Pancakes too.  _ Definitely _ pancakes. Those are a classic and easy to customize with what you have.  __ You crack the eggs into the pan, and begin. 

Sometime later, you’re stacking the last pancake, when a thought occurs to you. The pancakes are adorned with fresh fruit, butter, and whipped cream. The syrup on them reflects the light. They’re beautiful and perfect and they’re going to be so  _ delicious _ , but something’s missing. All the other food is ready on the table, but you feel there could be more, somehow. You stare at them, contemplatively. 

Perhaps some kind of finishing touch? A decoration of some sort? What would Lucemon like? You think to yourself, wracking your mind for what you know about him and his history. Don’t the Demon Lords all have their own symbols? You don’t know his off the top of your head, but it’s easy to look it up on your phone. It’s perfect. It’s not too complex, but it’s full of meaning and he’ll definitely recognize it as something with thought put into it. You slice a few more pieces of fruit, and arrange them in the shape on top of the pancakes. 

You bring them over and set them down on the table, then turn to head to the bedroom. You should wake him up now, before the food gets cold. You want him to enjoy this while it’s fresh and warm. 

And then Lucemon is in front of you. You jump backwards with a yipping noise and place a hand over your heart.  _ He’s so fast _ . One second he wasn’t there, and now he is. “ _ There  _ you are.” He says, sounding displeased. Did he really wake up just to come find you? The thought warms your heart, but there’s something more important right now. 

“I made you breakfast!” You say enthusiastically, gesturing to the table behind you. His eyes finally move from you to the table, and widen. There’s eggs and meat, arranged in little sun shapes, toast with every flavor of jam and butter you have, juice, coffee, and the  _ pancakes _ . You may have made too many, you think insecurely. You don’t know how much he can eat, but you figured that given the size difference it was more than you, so you made several stacks.

He still hasn’t responded, so you pick up your special pride symbol pancakes and press the plate into his hands. He’s staring at it. Then his gaze shifts from it to you. “I made them with love! And pride! They’re to celebrate the seal breaking!” You say. He sets them back down on the table, then turns to you. And then he’s hugging you. 

He picks you up and presses you into his chest, your face smushing uncomfortably into his medallion, your feet dangling in the air. You decide to try hugging him back, but you can barely fit your arms around him. It seems to please him anyway as he tightens his grip, and then lets go and places you back down on the ground. 

He then turns around and takes a seat at the table. You’d had the foresight to drag a part of the couch over, seeing as how none of your chairs were made for someone his size. You’d also given him the largest silverware set you had. Your house was meant for humans, not digimon. You’d planned to change that when you finally got your partner and became an official tamer, but it was irrelevant now, considering you had left the organization. In a rather spectacular manner, too. “Carried away by Lucemon” is not something you ever thought would happen, and you don’t envy the paperwork your former leader is going to have to go through. 

You take a seat at the other end of the table, and watch Lucemon. “So this is human world food.” He says, eyeing it speculatively. He turns his gaze to you. It’s still so piercing, even though you’ve been around him for a while. It feels like he’s looking deeper than your physical appearance. Still, he looks happy, and having his attention like this doesn’t feel bad. “It looks wonderful. What are these?” He’s gesturing at the pancakes. “They’re my special Pride Pancakes! Did I get your symbol right? I tried really hard…” you say, going from excited to nervous. What if it’s not right? “No, it’s perfect.” He cuts off your thoughts. “To think that it would still be remembered even after so long…” 

He trails off, then picks up his silverware and cuts himself a bite. He places it in his mouth, chews, and freezes. You can’t decipher the expression on his face. Oh no, did you screw it up? Does he not like it? You open your mouth to ask, but are interrupted by Lucemon closing his eyes and  _ purring _ . He swallows, then opens his eyes and looks at you. His stare somehow has more weight than before, but it feels so warm. He cuts himself another piece, and begins to eat in earnest. 

Overjoyed, you turn your attention to your own plate and start eating your pancakes. Your stack is considerably smaller than his, but you feel you're making decent headway into them until you look up in time to see Lucemon finish his plate and pull another stack towards himself. You’re abruptly glad you made so many. He’s still making the purring noise as he eats. Although you’re certain nobody has ever described him this way before, you think the noise and joy he’s showing are adorable. 

You finish your meal, and push your plate aside. You then watch as Lucemon finishes his second stack. And his third. And his fourth. By this time, you’re beginning to become concerned. Even given the size difference, he  _ surely _ couldn’t eat that much? “Hey,” you begin, he pauses, fork halfway to his mouth, and looks at you. “You don’t have to eat all of it if you’re getting full, don’t make yourself sick.” He stares at you, then smiles softly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m still hungry. It’s been so long, I’m nowhere near full.” He goes back to demolishing the pancakes. 

Digimon are so strange, you think to yourself. They’re incredible, but they’re just so different from humans. It’s not a bad thing, but it always seems to come up in the most unexpected situations. Like, say, when you’re feeding a Demon Lord pancakes. 

You watch him devour everything.  _ Everything _ . The toast, the eggs, the meats, and all the pancakes. Especially the pancakes. He seems to prioritize those. When he finally sets down his fork with a clicking noise, it’s to an empty table. 

All that work cooking has made you tired again, and he’s finally done, so you get up and move to your couch. Seconds later, Lucemon joins you. He flops down next to you, and extending a dark wing, wraps it around you and pulls you into his side. You can feel the vibrations from his purring this close. It’s nice, so you reach up and wrap your hand around his wing’s thumb claw. He grips your hand back, and you close your eyes and lean into his side more. The thrumming sensation is so soothing. 

He shifts, and you realize he’s holding something in his hands. It’s the book you were reading to him before you ran into the seal. When did he get that?  _ How  _ did he get that? Suddenly alert, you try to sit up, but his wing’s hold on you doesn’t let you move. 

“I’d like to return a favor. You’ve done this so often for me, and I’d like to do it for you. Unless you had another book in mind?” He...wants to read it to you? It’s a good choice, considering you’d never managed to finish it, and you’re struck by his kindness. 

There’s something you want to do first, though. You’re feeling playful. It might be all the sugar. You move to pick up your traveling bag that’s near the couch, and this time he lets you move. You’d left it there so you could pick it up easily when it was time to leave. You’ve packed it full of your most important possessions, including  _ one in particular _ . 

You pull out your copy of  _ Demonic Delights: Burning Wings of Desire _ and show it to him, making an innocent expression. “How about this one?” You move it closer to him. 

The look on his face is indescribable. “ _ Absolutely not.” _ He pushes it away. “Aw, come on! This is the best thing I own!” You plead with him. “There are times when I worry for you.” He sounds exasperated. It’s a tone you’ve never heard from him before, and it delights you. 

“ _ The Murders of Carnation Mansion”  _ it is then. I still think it’s the butler.” You were incredibly convinced it was him when you were reading it, and you’d said as much to Lucemon when he was in the seal. He gives you a sideways glance. “It’s the maid. She couldn’t resist the count’s fortune. Greed drives her.” You sit straight up and argue “The butler was mistreated by the count for years! He’s finally snapped and is going on a bloody rampage!” Lucemon turns fully to face you, and looks you in the eyes. “The maid.” “The butler!”

“I see you aren’t going to be convinced. We’re just going to have to see, aren’t we?” With that, he opens the book, finds where you left off, and begins to read. You lean into his side, and let his voice wash over you. He’s  _ good  _ at this. You can feel the vibrations when he speaks, pressed into his side like you are. You close your eyes and listen attentively, only opening them to debate plot points and say your guesses on the mystery. He pauses each time, and discusses them with you. It’s nice, to be able to speak to somebody else like this. You’ve been on the road for so long. You’ve been  _ alone _ for so long. 

And then the reveal. The butler and the maid were working together. You were both right. You were both wrong. As he closes the book, the two of you sit in silence. Over the course of the reading, he’s repositioned himself so that you’re lying on top of him. His black wings are wrapped around you, while his white ones are draped across the floor. 

You can’t help but notice they look fairly ruffled. He was flying at high speeds yesterday, and not only that, he’s been using them as a blanket for himself for who knows how long. Now that you can actually look at him without being awestruck, you’re starting to notice imperfections. Almost all of them can be attributed to the seal, and the thought distresses you. 

You find yourself reaching out, and smoothing some of the white feathers back into place. Beneath you, Lucemon stiffens. “Um, sorry, it’s just that they’re kind of-“ he cuts you off. “Keep going.” It sounds like a command, but there’s an undertone there that you can’t quite place. Loneliness? Sentimentality? He sounds emotional, but you can’t tell which one. 

He shifts to give you more access, and you begin to try and straighten the feathers in earnest. Given that he has eight feathered wings, each larger than you, you have quite the task ahead, but you want to do it anyway. He shouldn’t look like this. 

You throw yourself into your work with the singular drive and focus you usually reserve for tamer activities. It’s not boring. He’s warm, and his feathers are so soft. They feel nice to run your hands through. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you realize you’re shaking. No,  _ he’s _ shaking. Purring, actually. So hard that it’s making you vibrate. You’re beginning to realize he does this a lot around you. You don’t know what to make of that. 

You pause and turn away from the wings to look at him. He has his eyes closed, and looks completely relaxed. Boneless, even. You take in his expression, memorizing it. You want to remember this moment. Has anyone other than you ever seen Lucemon, Demon Lord of Pride like this? You wonder. 

You turn your attention back to his wings. Gradually, the ruffled look lessens and the wings begin to look more like wings and less like masses of fluff. It was morning when you began, but judging by the position of the sun outside the window, it’s almost noon when you finish. You pat his wings, then turn to him. He hasn’t stopped purring the entire time. He opens his eyes and looks at you, then stretches his wings, testing them. “...Good work.” He says. 

He sounds kind of out of it. Very relaxed. You consider for a moment, then turn back to his wings and press your hand into the fluff. He makes a choked off noise when you continue by shoving your whole face into one.  _ He’s so soft.  _ You hug his wing close to you. He seems frozen, as you remove your face from it to tell him “I love your wings. They’re so pretty and soft.” and then you press your face back into the fuzzy feathers. He responds by drawing them in close so they wrap around the two of you, and then placing his arms around you. 

“You take such pride in your feelings.” He murmurs. “You’re so committed to your idea of peace, even when the world is against you. It’s admirable.” It’s your turn to freeze. Lucemon, of all people, admires you? You get criticized by everyone.  _ Everyone _ . You get told off at least once a week, on average, about how ridiculous and flat out dangerous your “antics” are. “It’s a nice idea, but the world doesn’t work like that.” Is something you hear often. So to hear him say you’re admirable? 

“You don’t think I’m being unrealistic? Or stupid?” You try not to let the spark of hope flicker to life in your chest. It’s been crushed so many times before. “...Now who told you that?” His voice has dropped to a tone similar to the pitch he used when he was furious yesterday. He takes a breath, and seems to reign in his temper. “You see the world for how it should be, not how it is. There’s nothing foolish or unrealistic about that. It’s not your fault nobody else can see ahead of the present.” 

He’s supporting you? You knew he liked you, he’s said as much, but to hear he actually believes in you?  _ Lucemon _ , of all people, believes in you? It’s different from when he told you you could solve the fighting yesterday. You’d already put so much work into that, and had almost succeeded before. This is him telling you he thinks you can change the world. Someone so strong, so powerful, so legendary, so  _ ancient  _ is telling you that you can do it, that you’re not an idiot. He’s potentially older than your civilization. He’s likely seen others rise and fall. And he thinks you, of all people, can do it? 

“Hey. Hey!” He’s shaking you lightly, trying to get your attention, looking concerned. And that’s when you burst into full on tears and bury yourself in his chest, heedless of the medallion. It hurts somewhat when you slam your face into it, but you don’t care. 

He doesn’t move, at first. Then he tightens his grip on you to an almost crushing point, and the aura of power that surrounds him grows to smothering levels. He’s shaking, as you cry into him. With pure, barely restrained  _ wrath _ , you realize. Of the biblical sort. His aura has become horrifyingly strong. You can almost feel what he’s feeling, and it stops your tears in their tracks as you freeze, like a rabbit in the presence of a wolf. You cannot move. You can barely  _ think _ , this close to this feeling, and it’s not even directed at you.

This is a Demon Lord, you realize. The strongest of them all. They say Lucemon’s power rivals that of the digital world’s god, and this is the first time you feel you actually understand what that means. The sound he’s making is nothing like the content purring he was before. He’s  _ snarling _ , a growl so deep the vibrations are shaking you like you weigh nothing. It’s terrifying. He’s terrifying. And, you realize, through the haze of fear, that  _ you _ are the one that‘s evoking this emotion in him. For some reason, he has taken incredibly grave offense to the fact that nobody has ever believed in or supported you before. 

You muster up what strength you can, and cling to the only thing close enough to grasp in an attempt to ground yourself. Lucemon, the source of the storm. You feel like you’re in the middle of a hurricane. How can you calm him down? You don’t even understand what’s wrong. 

“Lucemon,” you begin, weakly. “It’s fine. I’m used to people not believing in me. You don’t have to be angry. I knew from the start that I was going against the grain of the world. It’s only natural that people would hate that. You don’t have to be angry.” Unfortunately, your pleas don’t help. They actually seem to make things significantly worse. 

Being in his presence is outright painful now, and not in the physical way. It feels like you’re being scraped mentally raw. Like when something terrible happens, and your mind just can’t cope with it and it causes  _ agony _ . 

“Lucemon, please,” you try to look him in the face. He’s making an expression you never want to see again. “...You’re hurting me...” And everything stops. He lets you go instantly, so fast it takes you a moment to realize he’s not holding you anymore. He’s moved from the couch to the other side of the room. His expression has gone from horrifying to one of  _ horror _ . 

You take a moment to get a hold of yourself, breathing hard. Lucemon seems frozen. Is he even breathing? You move from the couch, weakly, and make your way towards him. It takes every ounce of courage in you, but he’s been kind to you. He said he believed in you. You don't want to lose this, even if it’s scary.

He draws back as you get near. His wings are halfway extended, almost defensively. When you reach out for him, he moves away from your touch. You may actually hate the expression on his face now more than the one of rage. “Lucemon?” You call out to him, and he opens his mouth to respond. 

And then your phone starts ringing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pancake thing is a reference to how Lucemon has tried to eat the entire digital world TWICE in his canon appearances. He even succeeded in Frontier. A table full of pancakes would be nothing to this guy. They say Beelzemon is gluttony, but all evidence points to Lucemon being the one who’s really hungry. 
> 
> Each demon lord contains more data than the digital world. They’re enormous systems, and that’s why they have such trouble crossing over to the human world. The amount of data they can intake is proportionate to this. So Lucemon could eat many more pancakes! He’s nowhere near full. Despite eating so many.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know that in Digimon Savers Another Mission, Lucemon reveals he can manipulate hearts from inside the seal? He's also aware of world events. He's been watching over you this entire time.


End file.
